Guardian
by Haligh
Summary: Dallas has a guardian angel. Three months after his death, Johnny returns to earth to watch after him in his dreams. Slash. FAIL! Has been GIVEN UP ON
1. Angel of Death

Johnny looked to the ceiling, taking in a slow breath. He could remember his vision getting cloudy, even before Ponyboy and Dallas had gotten there. It had been quiet, then. The silence, weak and everlasting, was broken only by the occasional beep of a machine, or the fumbling of a tube as the nurse changed his IV.

He was weak and his energy was slowly draining from him, and it was taking all his effort, all his energy, to fight this. To fight this...disease. Because, in essentiality, that's what this all was: a disease. The death that was crawling over him, threatening to claim his entire body and spirit, was like a disease.

Then again, he could look at it the opposite way. It was finally going to end. He knew this. Soon, he knew. He couldn't heal from something like this. But maybe it was him who was finally escaping the pain. No more would he have to see his mothers beautiful black eyes hazy and full of anger, anger at him and the world. He wouldn't have to see her, like a broken angel, strung out in her funeral clothes on the floor, or hear her shrill cry. He wouldn't ever see his father, feel the familiar ache of another beating, smell the alcohol on his breath as he spat another insult. What was it Edgar Allen Poe had once said?

"Thank Heaven! the crisis --  
The danger is past,  
And the lingering illness  
Is over at last --  
And the fever called "Living"  
Is conquered at last."

That poem, that verse, was stuck in his aching head now. It tossed itself around and the words replayed. Maybe he was being saved this way.

After a few minutes, the feeling of pain was fading, and he became more and more tired, losing the ability to care about whether he was winning or losing. Was there a heaven and a hell?

Would he fade into blackness, just cease to exist?

Would his family...not his mother, or his father..._his family..._would they miss him? Would Darry still set an extra plate for him on thanksgiving, even though he'd never dine with them again? Would Two-Bit, laughing, silly Two-Bit - ever find himself in the solemn graveyard to pay respects? The thoughts where so strange to Johnny, but he did not want to be completely forgotten.

'_We beat the Socs!' _Johnny could see the excitement in his best friends eyes, but it was replaced quickly and swallowed up by worry. He stared for a few minutes, and Johnny could almost read his mind, read the thoughts running through it. '_What's wrong? Is he okay? Maybe it's the medicines. Is he in pain? _It was an obvious sort of worry, one that made him feel loved. Ponyboy cared enough about him to worry, and right now, lying on his deathbed, that meant a hell of a lot - Especially because after tonight, he was on his own.

"Fighting...is useless," He choked out. Was that really his voice? It sounded so far away. He felt his head burning up, and he felt like he was on fire... He couldn't do anything about it, though. He could only lie there tiredly, taking in slow breaths, delaying the inevitable as long as he could. "Will somebody get a doctor in here?" Was that Dally? That voice, so full of anger that hid fear.

"It won't...do any good," He managed, turning his head to the side. It hurt just to move, but he didn't care. No, his ability to care was fading away, just like his life. And he realized this was it. He was dying. Slowly but surely, he was dying. The conversation to him seemed miles and miles away...

He guessed that after a few minutes, Pony and Dally had figured out what he had moments ago, because they where talking to him, begging him to stay awake, asking him to hold on and that he'd be alright. Asking him where it hurt, the way a concerned doctor would... But _his _doctor had only asked that question after he'd gotten out of the operation, with cold eyes and a face that was still. He showed no emotion, no pain, no pity, no joy. Where all doctors that way? Would he ever find out? He guessed not, because this was the end. No hope.

The blackness was getting closer and closer, and he could feel his limbs starting to stop. He couldn't lift his arm or move his head anymore. "Johnny! Come on, don't..."

Don't what? He wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh because he _knew _he was going to die. It was so ...ironic, wasn't it? Johnny Cade had been kicked around, beaten up, and rejected by his family. He'd wanted nothing more than for his life to end.

Now, as it was drawing to a close, he realized how wrong he was. He didn't even have the strength to cry, anymore. And that cut like a knife, to realize he'd really wasted _so much time, so much energy, _on absolutely nothing  
"Ponyboy..." The voice was his own, loud and clear, betraying his complete lack of strength. The room seemed to stop, time even, as he took in another breath to finish the last words that where so important to him.

The younger boy looked at him with watery eyes, biting his bottom lip. The thoughts seemed to be shared between both of them - '_No, no, no, no! Not yet!'_

"...Stay...gold."

Smiling weakly, because he knew Ponyboy would understand, he fell back onto the pillow. The smile was gone as quickly as it had come. He could hear the echo of a strangled cry and felt his heavy body, his heavy limbs lifted up, but he could no longer feel the sensation of flesh gripping flesh. Everything was black. His senses went one by one: Touch, taste, sigh, and lastly, hearing.

"God dammit!" Was the last thing he heard - It sounded a lot like Dallas Winston. My gosh, how he was going to miss that boy...

All thoughts suddenly screeched to a halt. Everything became unclear and all thoughts where incoherent. Everything stopped and then...

There was nothing for a long time after that.

Everything faded back in. It seemed to take forever before the flash of white overtook his sight, before he woke up, but it happened so fast...

He stared at his surroundings, mind blank. Where was he? Who was he? Confused, the young boy leaned against the nearest wall and stood.His legs felt like jello, like he hadn't used them in a long time, and he stretched for a moment to get use to them. He looked up through his bangs then, to study his surroundings.

'_Beautiful,' _He thought breathlessly, watching the white walls of the room. It was stunning, how clean, and how pure this place was. There was no door, no window in the room. It was small, without furniture, without anything. Johnny backed up, swallowing. How was he supposed to get out?

"Don't worry about that," Came a soft voice behind him. "And do not be afraid."

But Johnny jumped out of his skin anyway, swerving around. His eyes, for a moment, locked onto the eyes of the figure in front of him, before wandering. Mouth slightly agape, Johnny realized how beautiful he was...Or was it a girl?

Wavy black locks fell to the boys hips, long bangs falling in front of bright blue eyes. Smiling in a relaxed and comforting way, he reached a pale hand out to Johnny, resting it on the boys shoulder. Johnny's' eyes widened as he looked the figure up and down - He was clothed in a white shirt, light and long sleeved, and tight white pants clung to his thin hips. The edge of the sleeves and the bottom of the shirt where marked by gold designs that sparkled like jewels. An eerie glow seemed to emit from him - Slightly golden, and faded, so Johnny wasn't sure it was really there. Was his mind playing tricks on him? Who was this beautiful creature?

Something made Johnny cringe. In his hand, he was holding a silver staff. At the top, it looked like a large black rose had opened, leaving a grey skull in the middle, and the sight of the skull caused him to shift uneasily. "Johnny Cade," The angel said, and Johnny noticed suddenly the two wings on the boys back.

He couldn't help but stare. He could swear the angel had been saying something, but he was to distracted to realize what.

"...Hmm?" Suddenly catching on, the creature turned to follow Johnny's eyes. "Oh. My wings," He laughed, out stretching them and lifting slightly off the ground. "Johnny Cade, my name is Azrael. I am the Angel of Death." The words where soft, but Azrael held no sadness in his tone. Not even when he said 'death'. What a horrible word, Johnny thought, and that's when it hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes widened fearfully, and he looked up slowly to the angel, who was watching him sympathetically. "I'm..."

"Dead," He answered, and Johnny turned away in disbelief. How could he...be dead? That night in the hospital, yesterday night, seemed like a dream. This, right now, seemed like a dream...So surreal. He didn't want to believe Azrael, but the older boy reached over to embrace him. "Don't be sad, Johnny. I'm here to help you pass on..."

I don't want to pass on, Johnny thought tearfully, _I want to go home..._

Johnny thought tearfully, 

"But you can't pass on..." Azrael said, unhooking his arms from around Johnny. "Not yet...You have a job to do. Of course, you don't _have _to do it..." Confusion was evident on the sixteen year olds face, which was tilted slightly to the side. What job?

And what about 'passing on'? The thought frightened him. He was in Heaven, wasn't it, since Azrael was an angel? ...Would he stay there?

"Dallas. You remember him, don't you?" And Johnny nodded immediately. He smiled at the mention of his best friend - He could still see him, perfectly, in his mind, like nothing had changed...

"Well...He's in trouble. After you died...He kind of gave up," Azrael said quietly, looking into Johnny's eyes. He understood everything Johnny was going through, every thought in his head, because he was the Angel of Death and doubt was his area of expertise. This made Johnny feel a little more at ease, and he nodded, urging the other to continue. "He's...not doing well. At this rate, he'll be dead before his next birthday. You're the only one who can get him out of this."

Since I died? Johnny mentally echoed, biting his bottom lip. '_But I've only been gone for a day...'"_This can't be happening," Johnny thought aloud, putting a hand to his head. "I can't...I'm dreaming."

Johnny mentally echoed, biting his bottom lip. 'This can't be happening," Johnny thought aloud, putting a hand to his head. "I can't...I'm dreaming." 

"Johnny." Azrael said suddenly, seriously, and the boy looked up to meet the angelic eyes. "You've been dead for six months. There was a funeral, there was a wake, they put you in the ground...Dally was at your funeral," He added, frowning. "You have to believe this, if you want to help him get over your death." Johnny swallowed, nodding. He was having a difficult time wrapping his mind around the idea he was dead, and he'd been dead for months. "Will I get to see Dally again?" He asked, voice barely above a whisper. The weak smile on the angels lips answered him. "Do you want to?"

Johnny closed his eyes. Of course he did. Dally was his best friend, who loved him like an older brother, who would always look after him when he had been alive. Dally had given up, because Johnny was his hope. Even though Dally acted like he didn't care about anything, he'd always had hope, because that's what Johnny _was _- And once he realized that, Johnny knew he'd have to go back. "Yes," He answered, and Azrael reached to take his hand, leading him out of the room(how? a door Johnny hadn't noticed before, or maybe it wasn't there before, led them out).

Beyond the door, Johnny was shocked to find blackness.

Empty blackness. It wasn't cold or hot, or if it was, Johnny couldn't feel it. He stepped forward in the darkness, turning to look at Azrael, who was flying over slowly, ready to give instructions. "Are you sure you want to do this? It's a scary world down there." Johnny knew that all to well. It was a scary world, all right - Full of drugs, alcohol, murders, fights and broken bottles used to kill. "I have to. It's Dally," He answered, grinning weakly. Was this really happening? Half of him was still convinced this was a dream... And Azrael smiled back, widely, reassuringly. "You'll be fine, as long as you don't blow your cover..."

Cover? Johnny pondered that for only a moment before Azrael moved on. "And...you can only really talk to him in his sleep, when he dreams. You have to help him let go...But you only have a week." The time wasn't long, and Johnny was slightly dissapointed he didn't have more time on earth. It was hard to let go of his home, but revisiting it after death was most likely a rare chance. He wanted to make it worthwhile. "Johnny...It won't be as hard as you think, alright? There's no need to be nervous." His voice was so soothing, so calm, Johnny barely realized he was falling and slipping away. The feeling set in and suddenly fear dawned on him. He knew this feeling, of everything dissolving into sleep. This was death...This...

This must've been how it felt when you travel between the worlds of the Living and the Dead.

Johnny was still thinking when his eyes closed, and soon, everything went black. Nothing happened. Silence. But he could hear himself hit the ground hard a while later, still half asleep.


	2. Sickness and Sleep

"Is he dead?" Johnny heard a weak voice. He was on his side, and his head ached and something awful, but other than that, he felt fine. Was it all a dream? Was it –

He felt a quick jab in his side, which interrupted his thoughts. He rolled over, whimpering, and looking up into the eyes of the 12 year old who'd just kicked him in the side. The boys eyes widened and he backed away slowly. "Nope…He's not dead," He answered, looking to his friend. Johnny narrowed his eyes, glaring. "Why don't you two kids beat it?"  
They hurried off at that, and Johnny stood up. "Damn…" He put a hand on his side where that kid had kicked him. That had really hurt, not to mention his head was swimming anyway from the fall he'd taken. He clenched his teeth, turning around. Children. Five year olds where running around the park, swinging on the swings, playing games. Playing games in the very park he committed his first murder in.

His eyes slowly scanned the area, stopping at the water fountain. For a moment he thought he was hallucinating, but he could see a black haired boy sitting there, staring at him. He looked human, this time. No wings, no freakish glow – He looked human.

"Azrael?" He murmured weakly, slowly walking over. His voice, he noticed, was different than it had been before – It was slightly deeper. He took a seat next to him, confused. "What's going on?"  
"Look at yourself," Azrael suggested, gesturing to the water. Johnny obeyed, peering over into the water…He suddenly remembered Ponyboys head submerged in water, Bobs smug face turn to a look of terror as he took out his blade…The fear he'd felt that night for his friends life, and the regret as he pulled the blade out of the flesh...  
He shook the thought off, watching the boy in the water, who stared back at him expectantly. That couldn't be him. Could it?  
Johnny still had his big eyes – Only now they where brown, like chocolate, like candy. And he still had his thin frame…Only now he looked a year or so older. His skin was lighter than it had been before, and his hair was longer, to – and black, with sort of reddish colored bangs. He was wearing his jean jacket – Or rather, a new one, zipped up over whatever color tshirt was underneath. He hadn't seen it yet, and a pair of ripped black jeans completed his outfit.  
"Is that…Me?" He asked meekly, looking up to Azrael with a furrowed brow. It didn't look like him. It didn't...feel like he was in his own body, either. He was controlling a stranger. The archangel only nodded. "Yes. From now one, Johnny Cade, you're to be…Well, how about Davis Abbott? Just for now. For this mission..." Johnny smiled. He liked that name. _Davis. _It would only be his name for a short period of time, but maybe being someone else for a change would be fun? He nodded. "Sounds good…"

He remembered how he used to want to be someone else. How, after a beating or after a bad day, he'd lay down on his bed and wonder what it would be like to be someone completely new. Someone different. Davis was different enough for him, and he'd play this role with pride, having finally gotten his wish. A new life. A new start...If only for a week.  
Azrael stood up, looking over his shoulder. "I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you know what's going on," He started to walk away, turning to look over his shoulder. "Remember the rules. If you break them...You won't be able to pass on," He said sadly. "This is a difficult mission. It's rare we give them out."  
"Wait! Mr. Angel…I don't know where Dally is," Johnny said softly, biting his painted black fingernails in the annoying way he had started to do shortly before he died, when he was nervous. "Then look for him!" Came the final reply, and Azrael had vanished between buildings in an alleyway.

Davis shook his head and sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before kicking a rock. He started to walk down the sidewalk, looking around the streets – Oh, it felt so good to be back on these streets again. It felt like…He was home.  
_I'll have to go back once my mission is over, _though. He thought sadly, looking at the ground. He didn't want heaven. He just wanted_ home_. He started on the familiar route to the Curtis household - He had it memorized, and it was something he'd never forget - Stopping outside, across the street. What he wouldn't give to see everyone again...The house looked the same, and he remembered months ago how they'd all have lunch in the kitchen together. He remembered even _before _that - When Ponys' parents hadn't died - When his mother, who always felt bad for Johnny because of the way he was growing up, that he mattered. And he always had a family with her, with Pony, with Two-Bit and Dally...With everyone, so even if he wasn't wanted at home, there was always someone missing him. It was a piece of advice he'd never forget, and she'd always made the house seem so happy. Now that she and Mr. Curtis where gone, the silences in between conversations in the house where solemn and sad, and Pony was never the same.  
The door opened but he didn't move. He simply watched as the boy made his way outside, taking out the trash. He was alone, and he'd caught Davis' gaze.  
"Do I want to know why you're staring at my house?" He asked, tilting his head to the side. Soda was even more beautiful than he remembered him, with his dark gold hair and the heedless look in his eyes. 'Davis' had to stop and stare for a moment before turning away. "...It's a nice house," He offered weakly, but the excuse was bad and he knew it. Soda smiled, and Davis glanced up. What a beautiful smile. No wonder girls where all over him.  
"New, huh? What's your name?"  
"Davis..."  
"That's nice." Soda said with a grin. "Mines' Soda. Nice to meet you, Davis. Where did you move here from?" They'd started walking, and although Davis wasn't sure as to where Soda was leading him, he followed. "Uh...Nebraska," He lied. Stupid! Nebraska? What if Soda asked questions, he didn't know anything about Nebraska! But that had been the first thing that had come to his mind. He mentally slapped himself. "What's it like down there?" Soda asked curiously, and Davis blanked. "I don't know...Kind of like it is here. Small neighborhoods...feels like home."  
There was a brief silence. "Where are you staying?" He asked. Davis put a hand to his head, sighing. "Currently? Nowhere. I walked here, on my own. Took me two weeks," He added jokingly.

Soda stopped to turn to him, a surprised look on his face, failing to see the humor in his joke. "Nowhere?"  
"Nope. Don't worry, I'll -" But Soda was already talking, cutting him off. "You can stay with me tonight if you want, if the couch is free." He smiled and looked over. Davis nodded weakly, smiling. "Thanks...Soda." Soda grinned, and there it was, the happiness and recklessness that made him so unique, reflected in his expression. "No problem. My friends are always crashing at my place, and we greasers have to stick together, right?"  
Johnny nodded, noticing the gas station up ahead. Steve was already there, eating a Three Musketeer bar and motioning for Soda to hurry over. "That's Steve," He explained, pointing to the other boy. "He's cool, don't worry. You can stay with us and hang if you've got nothing better to do."  
"I'd like that." Davis smiled,hanging his head as they walked towards the gas station. Being back in the company of friends made him feel alot better - He just hoped he wouldn't let anything slip in conversation. He had to choose his words very carefully. One slip up - If he said something wrong, something only a close friend of theirs would know - Then his new identity was useless, and he'd have to go back without doing any good. It was 7:00 when they started heading back to the Curtis house. He felt his stomach doing flip flops as they approached it.  
"Davis," Soda laughed, hooking an arm around his neck. "The girls where all over you today!"  
He couldn't help but blush, looking at the ground. "Don't know why. I'm ugly," He replied, smiling weakly. "At least, compared to you."  
Before Soda could reply, the door of the house opened, and Johnnys heart stopped when he saw the face. _"Dally," _He whispered, backing away slightly. Steve turned, a strange look on his face. Had he heard? Davis swallowed and looked at him before glancing back at Dallas.  
He looked exactly as he remembered him - Light blonde hair, pale skin, dangerous eyes. But something was different. He looked sick, like he'd been throwing up and not sleeping. A ciggarette hung out of his mouth and he simply looked at Davis once before turning and walking away. Davis turned to watch him walk, the sunset in the background made the sky look as if it was on fire.  
Soda pulled him inside as he entered, and Davis' eyes widened. The whole gang, almost - Two-Bit was on the couch, and Darry was in the kitchen.  
"Darry, this is Davis. He's new and needs a place to spend the night." The older boy looked up, waving, before going back to cooking. "Davis, this is my older brother Darry."  
"Nice to meet you," Davis said with a smile.  
"Hey, Soda brought a pet home!" Two-Bit laughed. _'At least he hasn't lost his sense of humor,' _Davis thought with a grin. That was a relief. He couldn't stand himself if Two-Bit lost his sense of humor because of a thing like death. "Davis, Two-bit. Two-bit, Davis."  
Steve leaned over, murmuring into the new boys ear, "He thinks he's funny."  
Davis couldn't supress a laugh. He stopped suddenly, looking to Soda. "You have a younger brother to, don't you?"

Soda tilted his head. His expression was puzzled. "...How would you know that?"

"I mean..." He trailed off. "I'm just curious if you do or not. I didn't mean for it to..." Soda put an arm around him again, holding him close. "Aw, don't worry about it, I know what you mean. You don't have to get so nervous when you talk," He laughed, backing up. "I do, actually. Want to go meet him?"  
Davis took a deep breath, nodding. For a first day, this was going very well. And when he fell asleep on the comfortable couch and started to dream, he'd see Dally.

But Ponyboy first. He missed him, alot. Him and Pony had been so close, spending all those nights in the church feeding off of Bologna. It had been one hell of a ride, hiding from the police, cutting their hair...Now, the situation made him laugh and smile. It had been silly, now that he thought about it, that they'd hid for so long.  
He followed Soda through the living room and down the hall, pushing open the door to Ponyboys' room without thinking about it. The boy looked up from his desk - A paper sat on his desk with a big red "A" on it. Figures. Ponyboy was always a good student, except for right after the accident. There was so much going on then, it was hard to keep track of anything - let alone grades. "Pony! Pony, this is Davis. He's going to spend the night and he wanted to meet you -" Soda was cut off. Two-Bit had yelled something, but Davis couldn't make it out. Something about a cat, maybe? He'd heard the word 'fluffy'.

"Okay, bye!"  
He hurried to the living room, leaving Davis in the door way. He leaned against the frame of the door. It was hard not to embrace the other, to tell him everything.

They talked for a while. Nothing that important. Names, girlfriends, things like that. "So you're new here?" Ponyboy finally asked. By now Davis was next to him on the bed. "Yup. Got here today."  
"Oh..." He looked at the ground. "I guess you haven't heard yet, have you? Or did Soda tell you?"  
Davis tilted his head, pretending to look confused. "What?"  
"My best friend died here a few months ago," He said sadly.

There was a pause. Davis wanted to think of something comforting to say, something to ease the pain in his best friends voice.

"I know what it's like to lose your friends like that...I know it hurts."  
Ponyboy explained the events in a low voice - He didn't like to talk about it, but Davis was the one who had asked, and he was only giving a quick summary. He stopped, shaking his head once he had gotten to the part about the Church.  
"Listen, I'm going to be right back. I need to grab something from the living room..."  
He was gone about fifteen minutes. Eventually, Davis started to wonder what was taking him so long. He reached over to the paper on the table, the one with the big "A" on the front. It was long, about fifty pages or more - At least, he guessed so. _"Damn..." _Davis flipped through the pages, stopping to read a little bit before flipping back to the first page. Ponyboy wrote really well, and he smiled, realizing in the first paragraph what it was about. It was about him. Him and Ponyboy. About the week of hell they'd endured a few months before. And he'd gotten an _A_ on it. With wide eyes, he kept turning pages. The last page, stapled to the back was what caught his eye. '_Ponyboy, I asked the nurse to give this book to you so you could finish it...The doctor came in a while ago, but I knew anyway...' _He remembered that doctor. He had been nice to him, and he remembered the cold voice that had told him he only had a few days left. He didn't think to much of it - You had to be cold when you where a doctor. When your job was to tell people they where going to die, being cold was the only way to keep yourself from feeling miserable - At least, that's the way Davis saw it. He continued reading it aloud, sighing at the end. Was that really his handwriting? He held the paper close to him and sighed, shaking his head. "All that matters is that I'm here now. I can tell him, make up for all of this..." He whispered to himself, and he lowered his head to stare at the floor.  
He didn't hear Ponyboy return to the room with his backpack. "_I can fix everything," _He whispered, biting his bottom lip.  
And when he did look up, he could see the annoyed look on the boys face. "...Why ...are you reading that?" Was the first things to come out of his mouth. The second? "And what are you talking about?"

'Oooooh, shit.' Smiling nervously, Davis set the report back down on the table. "...I was curious," He answered, looking at the ground in embarrassment. Ponyboys' expression softened. '_He's so...sincere. Reminds me of Johnny...' _He looked up through his bangs, swallowing. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have been going through your things anyway..."

Smiling nervously, Davis set the report back down on the table. "...I was curious," He answered, looking at the ground in embarrassment. Ponyboys' expression softened. 'He looked up through his bangs, swallowing. "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have been going through your things anyway..." 

Pony took a seat next to him, smiling weakly. "It's...okay. It's just a school thing, anyway." That was a lie, and Johnny knew it. He knew it because Pony wouldn't have kept it if it was just a stupid school thing. It was a reminded, a constant reminder of _him, _because Pony never wanted to forget Johnny. Never, never, never... Davis smiled suddenly, eyes on the paper. Ponyboy reacted to this by tilting his head, and the older of two looked up, grinning. "You really miss him...don't you?" Silence rippled through the room, before crashing down like a wave. Ponyboy nodded, letting out a sigh. "I miss him more and more every day..." More silence. Davis, without realizing he was doing it, wrapped an arm around Ponys shoulder. And Ponyboy, enjoying the strange and yet comfortably familiar touch, leaned his head on his chest.

"I'm sure wherever he is, he misses you to," Davis whispered, "More than you know." Ponyboy shook his head, eyes shut in disbelief. "I miss him more than he could ever miss me. I looked up to him because he was older than me...I got to know him really well before he died. I wish I'd taken time to learn more about him sooner..."

"Think about it this way," David said, leaning his head to rest against the top of Ponyboys. "You lost him. He lost everything."

For a moment, Pony looked up in understanding, and Davis' smile dissapeared. They sat there for a long time, quietly, thinking, in the dim light of the lamp, before the knock at the door startled them out of it. Davis quickly took his arm back and stood as Soda stepped into the room - It was bed time, and he turned to smile at the two brothers. "Goodnight," He said, making his way towards the living room. He closed the door behind him, and it made a low 'click' as it shut.

Sitting down on the couch, he hadn't realized Darry was in the room. It was so...quiet. _'Deathly quiet,' _He thought, amused slightly by his joke. He laid down, cuddled up against the pillow, before he felt a blanket thrown over him. Glancing up, he noticed the older of the Curtis brothers, and smiled gratefully. "Thank you..."

"No problem. 'Night," He called, turning to make his way down the hallway, to his room. There was a silence, and Davis had had to much silence for the night. He had to speak up, say something, to break it. "Hey...Darry?" He asked slowly, quietly, unsure of whether asking his question was a good idea or not - But he had to know.

"Yah?" The footsteps had paused, waiting.  
"Is Pony...I mean, is he ...okay?" Davis sat up, looking over the back of the couch. Darry had started to walk back towards the living room, nodding his head. "Of course he's okay...Why would you ask?" Davis smiled, and in the dark it was eerily like Johnnys' sad grin, the one Darry remembered like yesterday. "I'm just...worried is all. We talked for a while...He's having a hard time getting over his friends passing...He's depressed about it. I felt bad for him..."  
Darry listened, closing his eyes for a moment to think. Finally, he murmured, "We're all having a hard time with it, but he must've told you how close they where...before he died. He'll be okay. He's strong, he can pull through this..." _Right. The person I should be worried about is Dally, _Davis realized, suddenly eager to fall asleep. "Yah...Goodnight," He said, burying his face in the pillow and covering his body in the blanket. "Night," Darry replied, walking off. He waited, waited until the footsteps where gone and the talking in Pony and Sodapops room had ceased, before he decided it was safe to fall asleep. Darkness took him, but it wasn't frightening like in death. It was calm, soothing, anesthetic. When he opened his eyes next, he'd be himself again, an illusion. He'd be able to talk to the person he cared about most, and his last thoughts before sleep where _'' Only a week ". _Could he really help Dally get over his death in only a week?

He didn't know yet. But he knew he'd have to try.


End file.
